Survive
by Jockstrap
Summary: You think you are cursed, dear boy, hell has only begun to spin its web for you. Harry was left to the Dursley's at a tender age, an action that would soon raise grave consequences. When his estranged family tries to bring him home, he refuses, already learning to mistrust all and survive on his own accord. The wizarding world is in for a treat, when the twin of the BWL comes aroun
1. I:1 - Abandoned

summary: You think you are cursed, dear boy, hell has only begun to spin its web for you. Harry was left to the Dursley's at a tender age, an action that would soon raise grave consequences. When his estranged family tries to bring him home, he refuses, already learning to mistrust all and survive on his own accord. The wizarding world is in for a treat, when the twin of the BWL comes around.

* * *

October 29th, 1981—11pm

**Godric's Hollow**

**THE SILENCE WAS **suffocating. Tension and anguish dampened the air with its presence, chilling it despite the warmth from the hearth. Several times the seated couple stared agape at their guest and ally with disbelief, still trying to register the proposal and news he had come with. The woman, a redheaded Muggle born witch with startling, brilliant emerald eyes, stared at the older wizard. Her arms reflexively held the cooing toddler tighter against her bosom, as if to protect him from the danger that was to come. Albus Dumbledore smiled sadly at the distraught couple.

"You know as well as I if there was any other way, Lily, that I both Henry and Harry would be kept together," he stated softly, trying to comfort her but still make her understand the dire situation at hand. "It has been prophesied that Voldemort is only after Henry. Keeping Harry close by will only place him in harm's way. This may be the only chance to keep both boys alive."

"But the Dursley's of all people?" James Potter questioned, uptight and angry. His face was flushed a light tint of red, hazel eyes blazing with grief behind his glasses. He glanced down at the giggling unruly haired babe in his wife's arms and shook his head. "I won't have Harry sent to live with the likes of them. Petunia and her husband had already made their dislike of magic known. Sending Harry there would _also _put him in harm's way."

"He's right, Albus," Lily said, her face half buried in her younger sons hair. "Harry won't have a happy life while there."

"Then would you rather he be dead?"

Both couple stared at the white haired wizard in paralyzed shock at his bluntness. They turned to look at each other, then down to the twins in both their arms. Henry and Harry. They looked so much alike, yet so different. Whilst Henry was watchful and bigger, Harry was the smallest of the two and more child-like. Nevertheless, despite that, Lily could never bring herself to abandon her other child. She just could not look the other way while her Harry suffered at the hands of her sister. However, still, could she put him in danger of Voldemort as well? Lily turned back to her husband, reached out and took his free hand into her own. She squeezed his hand for strength as she turned back to the older wizard.

"If Harry goes to live with my sister and her husband I need to know that he is safe and happy at all times, Albus," she said, keeping her voice firm. "I want letters, pictures, anything to show that my son is being taken care of. Just until he comes to Hogwarts or Voldemort is vanquished, understood?"

Albus smiled, blue eyes twinkling as he looked at the bouncing baby in the redheads embrace. "Of course, Lily my dear. Do not worry; Harry will grow up in a safe environment. I promise."

Lily nodded and lifted her son up to bring his face up to hers. Big green eyes, olive shaped like hers, stared at her with delight and chubby hands tangled in her hair. A broken smile took over her face. "Don't worry sweetheart," she whispered, "When this is all over, when the threat is gone, you'll be back by my side. I need you to be strong though, okay Harry. Be strong; we'll be back together and can pick up where we left off before all this." she pressed her lips to his plump cheeks. "I'll always think about you. I love you, my sweetness."

The sharp rap on the door nearly brought her to tears. Lowering her cooing son back on her lap, Lily took Henry into her lap as well as James went to fetch the door. There was a brief murmured conversation and James returned with Sirius Black. Sirius, with all his rugged good looks and good-spirit, seemed just as broken as Lily felt as he stared at his godson. There was a brief exchange between Dumbledore and Sirius, before he turned to Lily, hands held out. Lily hesitated.

"Lily it'll be fine," Sirius said softly. "Hagrid will take him to your sister safely. We need to get you and Henry out of here though, before Voldemort comes."

"I know, I know," Lily whispered. Blinking back a tear, she pressed her lips to Harry's cheek again. "Be strong my darling."

Cradling the whimpering child in his arms, Sirius nodded to his silent friends and Dumbledore before leaving the living area. Rubeus Hagrid was waiting for him on the front lawn, Sirius's motorcycle rumbling. The half-giant carefully took the whimpering toddler from his godfather's arms, cradling him close to his barrel chest.

"Remember Hagrid, at the first sign of danger land and get Harry out of the way," Sirius instructed. "Voldemort may not be after him, but he'll kill regardless."

"Right," Hagrid grunted in his rough voice.

Sirius stepped back as the motorcycle snarled and kicked into the air. Tilting his head back, he watched as the last of the rear-light disappear, transparent clouds swallowing up the cycle. The sound of crunching footsteps had him turning around to see Dumbledore leaving the cottage. Sirius made his way to the old wizard, walking him to the front gate. "Are we doing the right thing here, Albus?" he questioned. "Sending Harry away to live with Muggles with no knowledge whatsoever?"

Dumbledore turned to him with a smile that could have been considered calculating with the old wizard had not been known for his kindness and defeat of evil. "But of course, Sirius. After all, this is all for the greater good." With that, Dumbledore inclined his head to the Black descendant and Apparated from the spot. Sirius, left to his own accord and twisted thoughts of the boy he might never see again, turned to reentered the cottage. There was still the second part of the plan to uphold.

* * *

December 21st, 1990

**Surrey, Privet Drive-N0.4**

**IT WAS COLD **outside. The type of cold that sank deep into your bones and left you feeling suffocated. There was ice in his lungs causing every gasp of air to pain and every exhale to burn. His fingers had long since lost whatever feeling was in them, but still, still he kept at shoveling up the front lawn and sidewalk of any snow. The baggy sweater and sweat pants he wore did no good in keep him warm, but he still kept working. His stomach was knotted up with hunger, but still he kept working, choosing to ignore it. It was better like that anyway; if he ignored the pains of hunger for a little while longer and did the job properly then he might get a cup of tea like they had promised so he kept working.

Harry Potter, in all sense, was an unusual boy in the eyes of all who met him. Quiet and horribly reserved he kept plainly to himself and was rarely seen outside of Number Four unless it was to trim the hedges, care for the garden, mow the lawn, wash the car, and add a new face coat the fence. Though some might say he seemed like the perfect child, there was something in the way he held himself, the blankness in his eyes that had many wondering what went through his mind. Had they had bothered to ask what they would have learned would have shocked many to horrified silence. The sharp throb in his limbs was what forced Harry to stop shoveling snow and rub his sore shoulders, brows crumbling as he tried to get a feel of it. He hoped his shoulder was not dislocated again. He didn't like dealing with that sort of pain. Another sharp throb forced a tight-lipped groan from him, but Harry merely rotated his shoulder blade and picked up his shovel once more. He wanted to finish up quickly now, just to get out of the cold.

The cold—

Winters, he'd always hated winter since he was a child. The untouched snow, the glistening air; all of it mocked him, reminding him that he was, he was—"A filth better left for dead," he mumbled hollowly, remembering his uncle's words. Yes, that's what he was. A filth abandoned and better off dead. Maybe that was the reason why his Mum and Dad had abandoned him to—"Don't think about it." Harry told himself, shaking his head despite the haze of dizziness. "Just work. Work and finish for the day."

Minutes passed, maybe hours, before Harry was finally done, but even he knew that it was pointless to have to shovel all the snow away. Tonight it would snow again and he'd be back out in the cold working once more. Patting snow from his frosted hands, Harry put the shovel back in the tool shed and made his way to the back patio. His aunt had already set down a trail of newspapers for him to walk on into the kitchen. The buzz of the telly reached Harry's ears as he stepped into the warm kitchen, sliding the glass door shut behind him. Breathing on his hands to bring warmth back into them, Harry went over to the counter expecting his plate of food to be waiting for him.

It wasn't.

Any other person would have questioned this, wondering where their share of breakfast was, but Harry didn't need to ask questions to know that he wasn't going to be eating today. He must have done something to upset his aunt and uncle. Had he taken too long shoveling the snow? Did he not do a good enough job? The list of reasons went on forever, but Harry didn't expect an answer just as he didn't expect his aunt to come into the room and hug him like a son. Closing his eyes and breathing through his nose to try and subdue his groaning stomach, Harry walked on the newspapers out into the hallway. Unlatching the door to the cupboard open, he settled inside his bedroom and closed the door behind him. The cupboard was warm. It was familiar to him. Leaning back into the wall, Harry brought the moth eaten blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes.

It was cold.

It was so cold.

* * *

September 1st, 1991

**Hogwarts Express Station 9 ¾**

**ANXIETY WAS EATING **away at Lily's stomach. She was practically bouncing, switching her weight between her feet as she glanced every which way. Hagrid was supposed to be here. Dumbledore had told her that he was coming today with Harry. Her husband and son, Henry, were already boarding the scarlet steam engine along with their family friends the Weasley's. Lily glanced upward at the clock overhead and gnawed at her bottom lip. It was almost elven, if Hagrid didn't come soon Harry would miss his train and—

"Lily calm down, they'll be here," James said, suddenly coming up behind her. She glanced back at him. "Dumbledore already said that everything was in order. Harry's coming."

"I know, I know, I just want to see him before he has to go," Lily said with a breathless sigh. "It's been ten years James. Ten years since I held him or told him that, I loved him. He's grown up so much and I missed it all. Do you think he knows us?"

James smiled and raised a brow. "Why wouldn't he know his own Mum and Dad? We sent all those cards and letters and gifts. Harry knows us just as much as Henry does. "

"You're right, you're right," Lily said with a tiny smile. "I'm just so anxious to see him. I've missed him so much James."

"I know."

Finally, at last the large form of Rubeus Hagrid emerged from the veil of white smoke. Lily waved him over excitedly, already making her way toward the half-giant. Only to stop in her tracks when she saw the grime look on his face. "Hagrid, what's wrong? Where's Harry?"

" 'Arry didn't want ter come with me," Hagrid said, not able to meet the desperate woman's eye. "He said he wanted ter stay with that lot."

"He wanted to stay with the Dursley's?' Lily repeated hollowly. "Oh, I see." She turned back to her husband. "I guess he's not ready to meet us then James."

James nodded, unsure what to make of these news. Grabbing his wife's hand, he pulled her close, whispering in her ear to try and comfort her as sobs started to tremble through her body. He turned back to the half-giant with a smile. "Tell Harry that we understand. When's he's ready to finally meet us, we'll be waiting for him."

Hagrid nodded, still unable to look the couple in the eye.

* * *

June 7th, 1995

**Surrey, Privet Drive No.4**

**THE STRANGE LETTER **that came in the post had erupted a war within Number Four. Vernon Dursley, a large ruddy man with little neck and far too much mustache, was bristling with anger. His beady eyes training from the damned letter on the table to his silent nephew, Harry. Said nephew was silently clearing the table and heading to the task of washing dishes, seemingly unaffected by his uncle's foul mood. Petunia Dursley, who was in the process of shooing her son, Dudley, from the kitchen, was visibly trembling with fear. Vernon and Petunia had always dreaded the day that accursed letter would appear on their front steps. When it never came four years ago, they thought that was the last of that bizarre world, but seeing it now their fears and anger had returned tenfold. Once Dudley was out of the room, Petunia closed the door and turned to face her seething husband.

"What are we going to do, Vernon?" Petunia asked in a quivering voice, pointing at the letter. "Look at it, Vernon—look at the address—how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house, do you?"

"Watching—spying—might even be following us," Vernon snarled.

"Should we right back. Tell them we're not—"

"No, we'll ignore them. If they don't get an answer—yes, that's best—we won't bother doing anything…"

"But, Vernon—"

"I will not have one of those things in my house, Petunia."

Harry robotically wiped and placed the silverware and plates in their respected places, all but tuning out his relatives. He didn't know who the letter was from –there was no return address—but he really could have cared less. Let his relatives wail over a single letter like the nutcases they were, he had work that needed to be done. Wiping his wet hands on his faded jeans, Harry stared blankly at his seething and anxious aunt and uncle. Then with a jerky motion of his uncle's head as a dismissal, Harry left the kitchen and made his way upstairs. While he occasionally missed his cupboard, Harry rather preferred having an actual bedroom to sleep in. and besides, it wasn't as though he could be forced inside that cupboard again. He just wasn't as small anymore. He wasn't necessarily tall—actually, he was still scrawny for his near fifteen years, but he at least grew to be a few inches taller than his former 4'6" stature.

The mattress, a hand-me-down from his cousin, Dudley, groaned and sank as he sat down on it. Stretching out his cramped muscles, Harry collapsed on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He could feel his fingers pruning, but to him that was a good sign. That meant he worked hard today because working was the only way to survive. Working was the only way to live another day. He clenched and unclenched his raw hands, trying to keep his thoughts busy. Tomorrow he'd wake up and cook breakfast for his family before leaving for school, and then he'd come home at 3pm, start on his chores, and maybe get dinner if his relatives were in a good mood. He closed his eyes, barely noticing the barn owl hovering outside his window. A sharp rap drew his attention. Standing up, Harry walked over to the window and raised his eyes at the agitated bird. He didn't make a move to open the window even when it pecked at the glass once more.

"And here I was thinking my life couldn't get any stranger," he mumbled, tapping the glass with a lifeless smile. "What are you carrying there?" he asked, noticing the rolled object tied against the owl's leg. There was another agitated rap against the glass and Harry unlatched the window. Opening it up, he took a step back and watched as the owl settle on the chair of his desk and hold out its packaged leg. Harry raised a brow. Well then, a domesticated bird couldn't be any stranger then turning your own primary teacher's hair blue. Walking up to the bird, Harry released it of its burden and watched as remained in place, ruffling its feathers out. Pulling the chair out, Harry sat down and unrolled the paper. It was the very same letter as the one downstairs. Heavy, made of yellowish parchment and address in emerald green ink.

Not to mention it was addressed to Harry as well.

_M. H. Potter_

_The Smallest Bedroom_

_4 Privet Drive _

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey _

Harry turned the letter over in his hand, contemplating giving it over to his uncle and aunt. It wasn't as if he was practically interested in whatever was inside the letter, but he'd rather not deal with his uncle's wrath so early in the day. After another minute of weighing the pros and cons, Harry gave a slight shrug, tore open the letter, and shook the contents out onto his free hand. He unfolded the first piece of paper, which turned out to be a letter. His brow twitched upward in query as he read the contents.

HOWARTS SCHOOL _of _WITCHCRAFT _and WIZARDRY_

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, _

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted

at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please

find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term beings on September 1. We await your owl by no

later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry lowered the letter and turned to the owl watching him with a questioning look. "I guess that's why you haven't left then, huh," he said, placing the letter onto the desk. "So, what does this all mean?" The owl gave him a blank look and hooted. "Yeah, I figured you wouldn't be any help." Turning around to his desk, Harry pulled out a blank sheet of notebook paper and pen. He thought for a minute on what to write before scribbling down a quick note. Turning back to the owl, he took the thin piece of robe and fastened it onto the bird's leg. The owl cocked its head at him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get along then."

The barn owl ruffled its feathers in anger and soared out of the room. Leaning back into his chair, Harry stared down hard at the letter. It seemed innocent, but its contents were demeaning. Words like those—Hogwarts, witchcraft, wizardry—none of them made sense to him.

"We'll just wait and see if anyone answers then," Harry told himself, tilting his chair back and gazing up at the ceiling. His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but not managing. "we'll just wait and see."

* * *

**Headmaster's Office**

**Scotland-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**THE REPLY CAME **only a few hours after he'd sent it out, and Albus Dumbledore couldn't have been more pleased. Finally, a decades plan is finally setting itself into perfect, sync motion. He danced his fingers against the plain Muggle paper, smiling softly to himself and gazing toward the window. It had been for the best then, waiting until the other twin was older before sending him the letter of acceptance. It gave the Potter's the time to put their other twin out of their mind and focus on the plan ahead.

Albus felt his smile grow wider as he picked up the letter and read the five words that would have been meaningless had it been another:

_What took you so long._


	2. I:2 - Prince and Pauper

summary: You think you are cursed, dear boy, hell has only begun to spin its web for you. Harry was left to the Dursley's at a tender age, an action that would soon raise grave consequences. When his estranged family tries to bring him home, he refuses, already learning to mistrust all and survive on his own accord. The wizarding world is in for a treat, when the twin of the BWL comes around.

* * *

July 21st, 1995

**Surrey, Privet Drive No.4**

**THE GIANT CAME **came unexpectedly. Harry had been adding a seconding coating of paint to the picket fence surrounding Number Four when the snarl of a motorcycle had him looking up the street. His brows crumbled, eyes squinting behind his overgrown black bangs to try and make out the approaching figure. The man, or so he guessed, was far too big to be a normal human. Forgetting the task at hand, Harry watched as the monstrous man pulled up beside his relative's home. His brow arched upward in query and he abandoned his paintbrush and bucket in favor of getting a closer look at the odd man. The main of tangled black hair and beard gave his face a fierce look, but the beetle black eyes that settled onto Harry were just too kind. The monster man eased off the cycle and rose to his full height, causing Harry's brows to shot upward in surprise. By god, he really was a giant. For a while, they stared at one another. Harry in his baggy jeans and faded shirt and unruly, chest long hair; and the giant with his leather brown trench coat with numerous pockets and wide grin. Harry blinked, narrowed his eyes, and took a step back from the giant.

"Who are you?" he questioned in a monotone, not caring who the person was. "If you're looking for my uncle he's inside."

The giant shook his head. "I ain't here for that old lump," he said in a gruff, but kind voice. "You've grown real big 'Arry. I remember when yeh was just a little tick." He leaned in closer over the gate. "Got yehr Mum's eyes ter."

At the mention of his mother, Harry felt his face warm slightly. "Tell me who you are or I call the police," he warned.

The giant blinked and chuckled. "True, I haven't introduced meself. Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

There was that word again. Hogwarts. When he never received a reply, Harry had shrugged it off as being some bizarre joke and returned to his daily routine. But now, now that he was facing the largest man he'd ever seen. A man that knew his name, his mother, and knew about Hogwarts, Harry felt unsure of what to do for the first time in his life. The silence between them stretched out before a shrill shriek had them both turning around to see Harry's aunt and uncle at the front door. Uncle Vernon crossed the distance, grabbed Harry by the cuff of his shirt, and pulled him back from the giant man.

"Dursley yeh old prune get yehr hands off 'Arry!" the giant roared, smacking open the small gate with a force not necessary and making way toward the seething Vernon.

Harry caught in the middle of the two large men, managed to free himself from his uncle's grasp and stepped to the side as the man, Rubeus, and his uncle looked down at one another. "I want you out of my lawn!" Uncle Vernon snarled, raising his fist.

Rubeus sneered and pulled out a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. "Shut yehr mouth yeh blunderin' dolt."

Harry didn't know how he'd done it, but regardless he was both entranced and terrified. Something had sprouted out of the tip of the umbrella, a pale light that struck his uncle in the chest and sent the fat man flying back into his wife. Harry made to go help his aunt Petunia get his uncle back onto his feet when a large hand on his shoulder stopped him. "What did you do to him?" he asked, brows furrowed. "And that thing—that umbrella—what exactly is it? Where did that light come from?"

Rubeus either didn't hear him or was too busy looking at the struggling Dursley's with anxiety in his eyes. "There's ter much ter explain 'Arry," he said at last, steering Harry away from his relatives and toward the equally monstrous motorcycle. "I have orders from Dumbledore ter take yeh ter yehr Mum and Dad's."

Harry shrugged off the giants hand with some difficulty, watching as he mounted the bike. His Mum and Dad. He hadn't seen them in nearly fourteen years and he wasn't planning on it anytime soon. Even he did want answers. He stepped away from the giant. "I'm not going with you then," he stated, turning around to face his relatives. "I have no use for my so-called parents. It's only fair considering that they abandoned me."

"They didn't abandon yeh 'Arry. They were tryin' ter protect yeh."

A tiny, bitter laugh slipped from him. A rarity when it came to Harry; laughing that was. "Protect me, you say. "He turned to face the giant once more. "_Liar._"

He was shocked. Harry almost smiled. They never thought it was possible for him, a quiet person by nature, to have such a sharp tongue. He waited for the man to speak, but he seemed unable to think of anything to say. "That's what I thought," Harry mumbled turning around to leave.

"'Arry wait!"

He sighed. "What now?"

"Don't yeh want ter meet yehr brother?"

Harry stopped, looked back at the giant with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean brother?"

* * *

**No.12 Grimmauld Place, London**

**THE MOTORCYCLE WAS a** flying monstrosity as Harry found out. It had come as a shock when the bike had suddenly snarled and kicked into the air, causing him to lose his gripping and fall to his inevitable death. Aside from thinking that he had lost all sense and sanity, Harry had watched as the rest of the world eased along below. London didn't look the same when looking at it from above. It looked hectic and rushed, everyone always moving like ants. Harry was more compelled to watch the rest of London disappear and reappear then where he was being taken, which wasn't like him. He's usually very cautious around other people. What seemed like a very short ride later, they finally came down for a landing, which was bumpy, and something Harry would like to avoid repeating anytime soon. Dismounting, he looked around his new surrounding and grimaced. The grimy fronts of the surrounding homes would have been Aunt Petunia a heart attack. Some bore broken windows, paint peeling off many faces of the doors, and rubbish heaped all along the sidewalk and front steps in piles.

"Where are we?" Harry questioned, wrinkling his nose at the pungent scent coming from the rubbish bins.

"Er, here 'Arry read this," Hagrid said, pulling out a scrap piece of paper.

"I don't see how reading anything is going to help right now," Harry said with a sigh but took the paper nonetheless. He unrolled the sticky paper and his brows crumbled once more. "What's twelve Grimmau—"

"Sssh," Hagrid said, waving his hands around madly. "Don't say it out loud 'Arry. Did yeh remember it?"

"Well of course, but what does that have to do with anything?" Harry demanded, feeling his patience for the man wane. "What aren't you—ah!" Harry dropped the paper in his hand, watching as flames devoured it. He turned and stared hard at the giant who pointed his umbrella at him. "Don't ever do that again."

"Sorry there 'Arry yeh just can't be careful these days. Now come along then."

Still staring hard at the giant in anger, Harry followed him towards the front steps of elven and thirteen, wondering if number twelve was going to fall out of the sky. When he looked up, Harry saw a richer dark wood door nestled between elven and thirteen. It was as though as far more cleaner house had emerged between elven and thirteen and neither occupants had felt the inflation of the third house. Harry walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the materialized door with interest. There appeared to be no keyhole or mailbox, only a twisted silver serpent knocker. Harry watched as Hagrid tapped the door once with his umbrella. Harry opened his mouth to ask why when he heard numerous metal locks and a chain undoing.

Clearly, whoever lived here was very paranoid.

The door creaked open and Harry peaked around Hagrid to see inside. The woman standing at the threshold was still beautiful despite her age and apparent anxiety with flowing red hair and green eyes that were too familiar for Harry's liking. He hid himself behind Hagrid.

"Hagrid, did everything go okay then?" she asked in a soft, singsong voice. "Is he-?"

"Yeah, I bought 'Arry here Lily," Hagrid said, stepping inside the house. He turned around to stare at the blank faced Harry. "Come on in 'Arry."

"I think this was a mistake," Harry said, turning on his heel. "I want to go home Hagrid."

"Harry wait," Lily said, reaching out and grabbing her son's arm. Her eyes widened. He was so thin. She turned him around and took his face into her hands. "What have they done to you? Why are you so thin?"

Harry jerked out of her grasp, eyes narrowed. "Why do you care?"

"Because I'm your mother," Lily insisted softly. "I'm your mother and it's my duty to worry about you and protect you."

"Liar_. _"

Her eyes went wider at the coldness in his voice. She took a step toward him, hand outstretched before reconsidering and hugging her hand to her chest. She stared at him, trying to find traces of the cooing toddler she'd hidden away from the world for his own protection. But she didn't see her baby Harry in his eyes. Those eyes—her eyes—were too cold, too blank and unfeeling. The unruly black hair surrounding his narrow face was messy just like her husbands and Henry's. But Harry still looked a bit more like her. He just no longer had a smile on his face. Lily sighed and dropped her hand. "Your brother has been waiting to meet, Harry."

"My brother." Harry frowned, still unable to digest those words. He had a brother. He stared at the redheaded woman. "Okay then, introduce me to him."

"This way then," Lily said. For a second she made to take his hand before reconsidering when he glared at her. Leading him inside, Lily closed the door behind him. They stood in the chandelier lit hallway, Hagrid having disappeared into the kitchen. Harry stared at the painting on the walls, blinking when he swore on them moved.

"Where is he?" Harry asked, not meeting the woman's gaze.

"Henry's upstairs. He should be awake," Lily said. "But don't you want to at least meet your father first?"

"No," Harry said bluntly, already halfway up the twisting steps. "What room?"

Lily's face fell. "Third floor, second room."

"Thank you," Harry said stiffly and made his way upstairs. He didn't care that he was acting so—so cold against Lily. It served her right for what she'd done. Trying to put her out of his mind, Harry came to the third floor and stopped outside the second door. He raised his hand, preparing to knock when the door creaked open and he was faced with his near-look alike. For a while, they stared at one another before his taller and older looking version stepped to the side to allow him entrance into the room. Said room was at least three times the size as Harry's back home with a glistening chandelier, a king size bed in the center, desk, bookshelf and velvet armchair facing the fireplace. Upon hearing the click of the lock, Harry turned around to face his double with a questioning look. This boy, while taller and more built like a track runner, had a look about him. An air of sorts.

Like a prince.

Even at that title placement, Harry had to smile. Yes, this boy with his neatly kept black hair and olive shaped green eyes was a prince and Harry the poor pauper. Said prince sat down on his bed, crossing his legs at the ankles and staring at Harry with watchful interest. "I always imagined the day I would meet you," he began, his words slipping out like fine wine. "You look more like our mother, but with father's hair."

Harry didn't bother commenting.

The boy smiled slightly. "Are you that shocked to see me, Harry?" Still no answer. "I suppose an introduction is mandatory. I already know who you are Harry, so it's only fair that you know my name as well." He stood up and crossed over to Harry, hand out stretched. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you little brother, you may call me Henry."

Harry glanced down at the waiting hand and curled his to his side. "Likewise," he said stiffly, still trying to make sense of this all. "Big brother."

* * *

**DO YOU THINK **they're getting along fine?" Lily asked, taking a shaky sip of her tea. Hagrid and James looked at her in what could only be pity and worry. "They've been up there a while. Maybe it was a mistake to do this so soon. Maybe—"

"Lily," James said, interrupting her. "Even Dumbledore agreed that this was the perfect time to bring Harry home. I know that he isn't going to warm up to us quickly, but I know he will learn to forgive us. We only did what we thought was for the best."

"I know, I know, but I hate seeing that look in his eyes James," Lily said in a quivering voice, lowering her teacup. "He isn't the same Harry. He's cold James. He'd become such a cold, empty person." She buried her face in her hands for a minute. "Do you think the letters he sent us were fake? That he wasn't as happy as we thought?"

"Lily!" Hagrid thundered, aghast. "Yeh ain't sayin' that Dumbledore was lying ter yeh two."

"I don't really know anymore. I mean, I don't see Albus doing something so manipulative, but what other explanation is there?" Lily demanded, her hands shaking at her side.

"Why don't we go up and ask himself ourselves?" a new voice supplied.

Lily, James and Hagrid turned to stare at the two newcomers. "Sirius, Remus. You're finally back."


	3. I:3 - Padfoot and Moony

summary: You think you are cursed, dear boy, hell has only begun to spin its web for you. Harry was left to the Dursley's at a tender age, an action that would soon raise grave consequences. When his estranged family tries to bring him home, he refuses, already learning to mistrust all and survive on his own accord. The wizarding world is in for a treat, when the twin of the BWL comes around.

* * *

July 21st, 1995

**No. 12 Grimmauld Place—London**

**Henry's Bedroom—3****rd**** Floor**

**HENRY SMILED AT **Harry's blunt refusal to shake his hand, finding it almost endearing in a way. Sitting back down on his bed, he continued to watch his younger twin with interest, noting each twitch of his brother's jaw and crumble of his brows. After a while, though Henry quickly grew tired of their expanding silence and stood up once more. He could feel Harry's wariness as he drew closer to him, and the smaller teen all but flinched away when Henry made to touch him. "I see you're not very good with physical contact," Henry said with a light smile.

"That isn't the problem," Harry said, turning his head away from his—from Henry. "I'm just not used to having anyone touch me."

"Really, didn't you live with Mum's sister? Surely she must have at least given you a hug once," Henry said musingly, finding it bizarre that Harry had never been held.

"Why would she hug me? I'm not her son and I'm not welcomed in her home," Harry stated blankly. "The only reason I wasn't sent to an orphanage was because she didn't want anyone thinking bad about her."

Even at the blank confession, Henry was taken aback, but retained his composure. "Did you enjoy the gift I sent you last year for your—our—birthday?"

Harry sighed and narrowed his eyes at the taller version of himself. "What are you talking about? I never anything from you or anybody else. Ever."

Henry frowned slightly. "So you never received _A History of Magic? _I thought for sure that you would have gotten it." His frown deepened as he tried to think of what could have caused his brother to not receive his gift. "Harry, when you were elven did you get an acceptance letter from Hogwarts?"

"Hngh, you mean this thing?" Harry asked, pulling out the carefully folded letter and supplies list from his jeans pocket. Henry, already recognizing the thick parchment, nodded. "No, I just recently got it. Why'd you ask?"

"Because all witches and wizards are by Ministry law are to receive an acceptance letter to a school of magic on, or around, their eleventh birthday," Henry explained, tapping his index finger against his bottom lip. "It's strange that you never got one. Do you think our Muggle relatives might have thrown them out?"

"Muggle?"

"Muggle is a term for nonmagical folk. Humans to put it simply," Henry explained.

Harry raised a brow at that. "So you're saying that I'm not a human being?"

"Well, speaking in technical terms, no. you're a wizard Harry. Just like me, Mum, Dad and everyone else within the Wizarding community."

"Wizarding community," Harry murmured, trying out the words. "It sounds like a bizarre cult."

Henry smiled. "It does sound that way, doesn't it?" There was a pause. "Muggles and the rest of the Wizarding world aside," he began again, stepping toward his brother until they were a mere inch apart. "I want you to tell me everything about your life Harry."

"Believe me, you don't want to know what my life was like," Harry scoffed out. "It might be too much for your delicate ears."

"Now that's not very fair, Harry," Henry said. "I only want to know more about my little brother. I want us to become close."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because people are liars. They always leave you to rot in the end."

Henry felt his smile slip from his face. They stood in silence once more, Harry's words lingering heavily in the air. Finally, Henry reached out and took his brother's face into his hands, ignoring Harry's obvious discomfort and displeasure at being touched. He pressed his forehead against the smaller teens and stared into the eerily identical eyes of his twin. "Harry not all people in this world are horrible. They're not like like those Muggles who raised you."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" Harry questioned in an almost bored tone. "It's not working if that was what you were hoping for."

Henry chuckled softly. "You're not getting it Harry. Nevertheless, you will soon, I suppose. You can't stay bitter for the rest of your life."

"Who ever said I was bitter?"

Henry opened his mouth to speak when a sharp rap on his door forced him to raise his head and turn to face the door. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face for a brief second before he released his hold of his younger brother and went to open the door. Henry wasn't surprised to see his parents and godfathers Remus and Sirius at the door. Sirius, being the man-child he was, ruffled Henry's hair while placing him in a headlock. That went on for a few minutes before Henry was finally released and he turned back to his silent brother.

"Harry, did you ever get the chance to meet Padfoot and Moony?" Henry asked, referring to his godfathers by their Amnigus forms.

Harry raised a brow and turned his attention to the three new additions. The man standing beside Lily must have been her husband. He was built like Henry, but wore glasses similar to Harry's thick-blacked framed ones, and his hair was just as unruly. The two other men were, in a sense, a strange bunch. The long blacked haired one looked no older then Lily, still handsome but the mischievous gleam in his dark eyes said another thing. The man beside him was a whole other factor. He wore shabby clothes, some even with patches. His hair, a thin brown speckled with gray, surrounded his wary and life exhausted face. Harry felt a twinge of pity for the brunet man already; he knew just how much life could beat out of you. The brunette man noticed Harry staring at him and stepped over, a cautious smile on his face.

"Harry, it's really good to see your face again," he said in a slightly raspy voice, as though he was catching a cold.

"Ah, likewise, er, Padfoot?" Harry said, unsure whom if this man was the introduced Padfoot or Moony.

The man chucked, taking Harry's hand into his own for a few seconds. "Actually Moony is my, er, nicknames I guess you could say. That grinning idiot over there is Padfoot."

Harry nodded toward said "grinning idiot" and turned back to Moony. "Then what is your name?"

"I'm sorry for not introducing myself earlier, this damned, uh, cold is really starting to muddle up my brain," the man said with a wary smile. "My name is Remus Lupin. It's a pleasure to finally meet you again Harry."

Harry nodded, unsure what to say.

"Well if we're making introductions then I guess I'm next," the black haired man said with a dramatic sigh. He walked over to Harry and held out a hand. Harry raised a brow at him. "What no handshake? Or is that not in with the kids anymore?"

"Padfoot," Henry said with a sigh. "Harry isn't very welcoming of physical contact at the moment."

"Right right, got it," the man, Padfoot said, lowering his hand. "Okay then, with that all behind us. Then names Sirius Black, but you must know me already."

"I can't say that I do," Harry stated in monotone. "Is Padfoot a nickname as well?"

"Are you bloody kidding me? That's all you have to ask me. Is Padfoot a nickname? Don't you want to know anything about me at all?"

"I can't say that I'm interesting in doing so."

"Why you little—"

"Sirius don't threaten the kids," Lily's husband said with a chuckle. He stepped over to Harry as well. "Harry it's really great having you back home." He paused for a second. "Well this isn't exactly our home. It's Sirius's. Ours is still in progress of being rebuilt."

At that, Harry turned to Henry. "Care to explain?"

Henry smiled slightly. "Only if you're willing to exchange information, little brother."

"Fine."

* * *

**Kitchen**

**No. 12 Grimmauld Place—London**

**HE'S NOT HARRY**," Sirius stated simply, as though it was the most rational thing to say in this world. "He must be a spy."

"And what makes you say that, Sirius?" James asked, rubbing his temples to remove the tension from his head. "Nobody else knows about Harry. I don't see how Death Eaters could have possibly gotten knowledge of his existence."

"The Ministry has their ways of leaking information," Sirius pointed out.

"That point aside," Remus said. "We don't want the public getting whiff of Harry just yet. He has no knowledge of magic. At this point and time, Harry is very vulnerable to attack."

"Then Henry can look after Harry," Lily decided.

"Is it really wise to try and push them closer together?" Sirius asked. "With Voldemort still lurking about, putting Harry in his line of sight could cause some trouble for all of us. Dumbledore isn't going to like that."

"I don't care at the moment what Dumbledore likes or doesn't," Lily said harshly. "It's nearly been fifteen years since my sons have seen each other. Regardless if Dumbledore disapproves, I will bring my family back together."

* * *

**Henry's Bedroom—3****rd**** Floor**

**SO YOU SAY **that this wizard, Voldemort, was trying to kill you when you were a baby," Harry repeated hollowly, staring at the seated Henry as though he was a complete nutcase. Which he might have been.

"You don't believe me," Henry said.

"I don't see how that can happen really," Harry said with a shrug. "So, he's still around then?"

"Yes, Lord Voldemort is very much still alive," Henry, said with a sigh. "Of course during my prior years at Hogwarts I'd managed to weaken him and slow down his descendant into rising power, but yes. Voldemort is still alive and kicking."

"Okay then." Harry leaned back into the wall, watching as the painting of a plump, souring looking woman scowled at him. As he'd learned, paintings in this house and the rest of the Wizarding community really did move. It was either that or Harry had gone completely rockers. Closing his eyes, Harry tried to make sense of all the information he'd been giving. The reason behind his being with the Dursley's was because the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, had planted inside Lily and James's mind that Harry was in danger due to association with Henry. Once Harry was out of the picture, Henry and his parents went into hiding until he was old enough to go to Hogwarts where he recovered the sorcerer's stone, killed the Basilisk, imprisoned a murder and Death Eater, and became the youngest champion to something called the TriWizard Tournament. In addition, Death Eater's attacked their home in a place called Godric's Hollow and Henry and his parents were forced to move in with Black and Lupin during the summer.

"You had a busy four years," Harry mumbled.

"That I did," Henry said with a yawn, rumpling his freshly pressed slacks and dress shirt. "Now then, I told all about myself and my trials. It's your turn now Harry."

Harry straightened and made for the door. "Sorry, I don't make deals with people," he said with a backwards glance. Closing the door behind him before Henry could protest he hastily made his way down the steps as silently as he could and headed for the front door. He was already tired of this place. Not even the Dursley's gave him the kind of migraine that being with these nutcases did. Okay, maybe they've already proven to be wizards and all that, but that didn't mean Harry was one. He was merely related to them by default and no choice. Yeah, that's how it was. He didn't have a choice in any decision when it came to his life.

"Going somewhere Harry?" asked Lupin, startling Harry slightly. He turned around to face the sickly looking man and nodded. "I see, will you consider staying for dinner then, before you go back? I still never got a chance to talk to you."

"I, I guess staying a little while longer couldn't possibly kill me," Harry mumbled, dropping his hand from the first latch on the door.

Remus smiled at him, seeming strangely relieved. "That's good then." He took a step toward Harry and placed a hand on his arm for a second. "We've all really missed you Harry."

Harry bit his tongue to keep from hissing out the word he'd become familiar with. Even though Lupin seemed sincere and kind, Harry didn't trust him. Didn't believe him. All these people around him, claiming that they love him and want to know him better, are all one the same. They were all liars.


	4. I:4 - Wise Words

summary: You think you are cursed, dear boy, hell has only begun to spin its web for you. Harry was left to the Dursley's at a tender age, an action that would soon raise grave consequences. When his estranged family tries to bring him home, he refuses, already learning to mistrust all and survive on his own accord. The wizarding world is in for a treat, when the twin of the BWL comes around.

* * *

July 24, 1995

**3****rd**** Guest room—2****nd**** Floor**

**No. 12 Grimmauld Place—London**

**HARRY DIDN'T KNOW **how they had convinced him to stay longer. The dinner had been a stiff affair considering Harry had refused to speak to anyone in favor of trying to figure out what he was going to say to his aunt and uncle when he came home from his little adventure. The entire time that he'd spent musing Harry had failed to come up with a plausible lie his relatives would believe. Aside from coming up with all those people were nutcases, Harry was lost on what to do. Even now as he listened to the rest of the occupants of Number 12 rising for the start of morning, Harry pulled the blanket over his head and made up plans of escape. It wasn't as if he could spend the rest of his life in this unfamiliar room with people he didn't know.

A sharp rap on the door forced Harry to poke his head back up from beneath the blanket and watch as his bro—as Henry stepped into the room carrying a silver tray. Harry frowned in annoyance. Since his unintentional stay, here Henry seemed determined to spend every waking second with Harry. It wasn't that the boy was annoying or a snob, but Harry was getting quite tired of seeing his eyes smiling down at him.

Henry placed the tray on the empty nightstand and stared down at Harry's visible head. "Still not going to eat today Harry?" he asked with a sigh when his little brother shook his head. Henry leaned over the bed and felt Harry's forehead. "What's wrong Harry, you haven't eaten a bit in three days surely you must be hungry."

Harry shook his head again. Three days of not eating was nothing compared to a week. He continued to frown up at the concerned teen, trying to get him to understand that he wanted to be alone and, more possibly, go home to the Dursley's. Henry sighed and sat down on the bed, staring at Harry with the same concern Aunt Petunia did when Dudley was faking being sick.

"Can I get you anything at least?" Henry asked.

Harry shook his head again.

"Can I do anything for you?"

"Yeah, you can take me home now," Harry mumbled, pulling the blanket back over his head. "I'm tired of this place."

"That's not very nice Harry," Henry chided lightly. "Everyone here has been waiting patiently to finally meet you. Even the Headmaster said he was coming in to see himself so he could clear some, uh, _issues _our mother has been having with him."

Harry sighed, sat up and kicked the blanket off. "Like what?" he asked, picking a fabric line from his borrowed pajamas.

"Why he didn't have you come home sooner," Henry said. He paused for a second. "Let's see, and how are we going to deal with your academic disadvantage because he really can't expect you take the O.W.L.s with no knowledge what so ever."

"O.W.L.s?"

Henry smiled lightly. "If you eat something, just a bit, I'll answer all your questions my dear baby brother."

"Fine, but stop calling me that," Harry said with another sigh, racking his fingers through his hair. He pulled the tray over to his lap and picked up the spoon. Trying to ignore the fact that Henry was watching him eat the porridge Harry came up with his questions. "So, what is the O.W.L?"

"Ordinary Wizarding Level," Henry said, tapping his index finger against his denim-clothed leg. "It's tests all fifth year students of Hogwarts are to take that are administrated by the Wizarding Examinations Authority. The score made by a student on a particular O.W.L. determines whether he or she will be allowed to continue taking that subject in subsequent school years." He paused again. "It's kind of hard to try and explain the whole thing, but basically students prepare for the O.W.L during their first four years then take it at the end of their fifth year. Say if I passed Transfiguration, I would receive an O.W.L for that class because I passed it on the O.W.L exam. Got it?"

"Nope," Harry said through his mouthful of porridge. "But please continue. Don't let my lack of magic stop you."

"Harry don't eat with your mouth full," Henry chided again. "As I was saying most O.W.L.s are divided into written exams and practical exams. The O.W.L. is comparable to the Muggle "O level" exam given at the same stage of education. Think you grasped that?"

Harry shrugged and put down his spoon. "I got the Muggle education comparison."

"Of course you would."

"Hey, it isn't my fault my relatives didn't know a thing about magic," Harry said with a huff. "Anyway, what do you lot have for classes anyway?"

"It sort of depends on what you're choosing. First years get their classes scheduled the same –seven classes a day—, and second year students are required to add two more subjects. Third year and up students create their own schedules later on usually adding electives," Henry said, spreading marmalade on a piece of toast and handing it over to Harry.

"So what are you taking?"

"Hmm, let's see, I'll be taking Potions, Arithmancy, Study of Ancient Runes, Transfiguration, Charms, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Alchemy."

Harry frowned and took another bite of his toast. "That's too much."

Henry smiled. "Not at all. I like a good challenge."

"It's either that or your mental."

Henry leaned in closer to his brother and wiped marmalade from his mouth. "I love you too little brother."

Even with the playful gleam in his eyes, Harry grew wary instantly. Love. He'd never had anyone say that to him before and he'd rather not start now. It would just make things too difficult for him in the end.

* * *

**Living Room—9pm**

**THE APPEARANCE OF **Albus Dumbledore came as a shock to Lily. She'd never heard a word about him coming over, but seeing him now she felt confliction rolling through her. The suspicion that he might be involved in whatever Harry experienced while in her sisters hand made her angry. However, she also trusted this man. He'd protected her family numerous times and felt angry with herself for being suspicious of Dumbledore. But still…

"Lily my dear it's always a pleasure to see your face," Dumbledore was saying with a beaming smile.

Lily blinked and smiled up at him, embracing him for a second before drawing back. "The same, Albus, how are you feeling? Minerva told me that you had a cold."

Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "Oh, I'm fine. Nothing a good lemon drop can't fix. Now, where's the man of the hour?"

"I'm so glad you think of my so highly, Sir," Henry said coming into the room with Harry following behind.

Dumbledore looked up from his place on the armchair and quickly assessed the two boys. They were both different, and it wasn't even due to the way they dressed or looked. Dumbledore stared at Henry for a few seconds before turning to his smaller self. Dumbledore didn't like something about Harry Potter. Something that could easily challenge his entire plan. Nevertheless, Dumbledore smiled warmly at the two teens.

"While I hold you to high regard Henry my boy, I was talking about young Mr. Potter over there," Dumbledore said inclining his head toward Harry. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you again Harry. Fifteen years is quite the long time. You've grown so much."

"Likewise, Sir," Harry mumbled.

"Henry, Harry come sit down, there's something we need to talk about," Lily said, patting the twin spaces on the couch.

When Harry made to shake his head, Henry grabbed his hand and sat him down, sitting between his mother and brother. He turned to Dumbledore. "So, Headmaster, what exactly are we going to clear up here and now?"

"Henry," Lily said in warning. "Don't be rude."

"I'm not being rude, Mum," Henry said. He smiled at the assembled adults pleasantly. "I too want answers to why my little brother never received my gifts and letters."

Dumbledore smiled grimly when all eyes turned on him. He cleared his throat and began. "It was tragic to hear that Harry here never received any of his gifts and letters, but I assure you that it was never my doing. I had made it clear to Ms. Dursley that I was entrusting the safety and well-being of Harry in her and her husband's care as much as I told her that you and James would send monthly letters and gifts to Harry and expected to receive letters in return.

"The fact that this agreement came to be can only mean that Petunia and her husband had not kept their end of the bargain."

Silence settled for a minute before Henry shook his head with disgust. "Sir, when you put it that way you make it seem as though Harry was a dog they were entitled to care for because they were being paid off to do so."

"Henry," James said in a light tone. "We only did what we thought was best."

"That may have been your primary goal in the beginning but did you ever think to go and check on Harry yourselves? Did you even care enough to see if he was really doing all right?"

"Of course we cared!" Lily cried out, tears dampening her eyes. "Don't you dare say to me that I didn't care about my own son! Henry I loved you brother just as much as I loved you, I did what I thought was best for Harry. If he'd stayed around you then he would have just as well ended up dead!"

"Lily," James said, placing his hands on his shaking wife's shoulders. He looked toward his silent sons. "Henry we were only trying to keep you both safe. We wouldn't have let Harry stay with Petunia if we'd known that he was being mistreated."

"That's the problem though Dad. You didn't know. You never thought to go and see for yourself, you just relied on letters to soothe your own suspicion," Henry said calmly. He turned to Dumbledore. "Why didn't Harry ever receive his letters to Hogwarts when he was elven? Why did you wait till now to bring Harry home?"

"That was a doing on my own part I fear," Dumbledore said with a wary grin. "With Voldemort still around and unweakened I didn't feel it would have been wise to bring Harry home so quickly. I did what I thought was best."

"So you felt it would be better for him to be left defenseless?" Henry questioned with a frown. "How do you think he's going to fare in Hogwarts then?"

"I've already set up a number of private tutors for Harry to catch him up with the remainder of the fifth years. He'll be studying in private for the first term before joining the rest of the student population on the second." Dumbledore looked towards Harry. "Of course you won't be expected to take your O.W.L.s till late summer."

The silence settled between them once more before Harry stood to his feet and silently made his way out of the living room and back towards the guest room. Henry stared at his quivering mother for a minute before he too left the adults to their own affairs and hurried after his brother. He found Harry sitting on his bed, staring blankly out the window. Henry closed the door behind him, crossed the distance to his younger twin, and took Harry's face into his hands.

"What they did to you is unforgivable," Henry mumbled, pressing their foreheads together. "And I don't blame you for hating Mum and Dad Harry. I would have hated everyone who tried to tell me they only did it out of protection."

Harry blinked up, stared into his eyes, and grabbed Henry's wrist. "I don't get you at all," he whispered. "Why don't you hate me for bargaining into your life and complicating everything?"

"How could I possibly hate you Harry when I waited fifteen years to finally meet you?"

* * *

**Living Room**

**JAMES AND DUMBLEDORE **didn't know where Lily was going. Once the boys had left the room, she'd suddenly calmed down and grabbed her traveling cloak from off the rack. Before James could question her, she was out the door and had Apparated out of sight. Back in the living room, Dumbledore was pleasantly drinking his tea that Wiki had brought for him, trying to think of ways to smooth out the jagged edges of his plan.

That boy, Harry, wasn't going to be the good little solider he had hoped for.


	5. I:5 - Truth and Fury

summary: You think you are cursed, dear boy, hell has only begun to spin its web for you. Harry was left to the Dursley's at a tender age, an action that would soon raise grave consequences. When his estranged family tries to bring him home, he refuses, already learning to mistrust all and survive on his own accord. The wizarding world is in for a treat, when the twin of the BWL comes around.

* * *

July 24, 1995

**Surrey, Privet Drive No.4**

**IT CAME AS **a shock to Petunia Dursley to see her sister at her doorsteps. It was no grouse understatement to say that Petunia was ready to throw a tantrum at the sight of her younger sister demanding to know Lily's reason for coming to her home in the dead of night, but something stopped Petunia from speaking all together. She couldn't place it at first, but it quickly dawned on her to her sisters being here. The look of utter fury and betrayal burned in Lily's eyes. Her stance was that of a lioness preparing to attack. This was the look of a mother ready to kill. Petunia stepped backwards, wanting to place a distance between herself and the enraged redhead at her doorsteps. They didn't speak just stared at one another. It was only the bellow from Vernon that snapped the two women into action. Lily stepped into the house and slammed the door closed behind her before turning back to her sister.

"How could you?" she asked, her voice trembling with anger and hurt.

Petunia didn't know what to say.

Lily took a step closer to her sister. "How could you, Petunia?" she asked again. "I trusted my son's life with you. I trusted you to treat Harry like your own son and all this time—all this time you never even gave a damn about him!"

Petunia recoiled. Stared agape at her sister. "W-what did he tell you we did?" she asked in turn.

"Nothing. Harry wouldn't tell me a thing, but it's a fair guess to say that he was treated less than kindly in your home," Lily spat. "For fifteen years I left him in your care and the day I finally get him back my son is a cold-hearted person. What _did you_ do to my Harry?"

"N-nothing I swear I've done nothing to him," Petunia stammered, stepping away from the enraged witch. "All those letters and gifts—Vernon has them. H-he's the one who made Dudley write all those letters to you."

"Don't you dare lie to me!"

"I'm not lying! I'm not Lily I swear to it. Everything that had happened to Harry was Vernon's doing. He wouldn't take no for an answer. He said Harry needed to suffer because he wasn't normal."

"Then you're just as much to blame! My son, my own son—how could you Petunia!"

"What the rudy hell is going on here?" Vernon bellowed from the living room once more. Petunia and Lily watched as his great form lumbered out of the living room and into the hallway. Vernon gaped at Lily for a millisecond before his face went beat red. "You," he snarled, "What the hell do you think you're doing in my house. I told you I don't want any of your lot in here!"

Lily turned to him, her rage unfurling with a wrath. She didn't think about pulling her wand out, just did and pointed it at the fat man. "You worthless excuse of a human being how dare you treat my son the way you did! What right did you have?"

"I said out of my house you freak!" Vernon roared, raising a meaty fist.

"Vernon—don't!" Petunia yelled, getting between her husband and sister. "Lily wait—think about what you're doing—think about how it'll affect Harry for god's sake!"

"Don't you dare talk to me about my own son Petunia," Lily snarled. "You—who never even bothered to care for my son are trying to lecture me? I'll send you and your worthless husband—"

"I'm sorry!"

Lily recoiled in surprise. It had been years since she'd heard an apology from Petunia. She raised her eyes to her sisters flushed face, eyes dampened with tears. The part of her that always loved her sister swelled with guilt and remorse. Lily lowered her wand. "I want to know everything," she said after a while. "Everything that happened to Harry. Every detail of his life. I want to know so I can understand."

"Okay," Petunia whispered softly.

* * *

**No.12 Grimmauld Place—Morning**

**HENRY HAD FALLEN **asleep with his head on Harry's lap. For the first few minutes Harry looked past the weight of his bro—of Henry's (he was never going to get used to that word) head and continued to stare blankly into space. He didn't know what was going on downstairs but he figured that thing must have settled down considering all was calm in the house. Leaning back into the headboard of his bed, Harry tried not to shift too much and wake up the other teen. Despite how much Henry Potter confused him, he still seemed to care about Harry enough to stand up against his own parents and Headmaster. It was either that or the boy was seriously a nutcase. Looking down into his sleeping face, Harry absently pushed a strand of his black hair from his face. His lips twitched upward slightly.

"For someone who'd witnessed hell you look like a little kid when you're asleep," he said softly, placing his hand hesitantly on Henry's head. "But then again, you are just a kid." Harry closed his eyes. Sucked in a deep breathe. He'd never felt this drained before. Everything that had happened in the past few days seemed like an illusion, a dream that his mind was making to possibly help him escape his current life. A sharp rap on the door had him opening his eyes and turning toward the door. "Come in."

The door creaked open and Lily stood in the doorway. Harry raised a brow. She stepped into the room, closed the door behind her, and leaned back into it. There was a moment of silence. "I don't know what to say to you anymore," she started. "For the all excuses I've ever made I never once acted. It wasn't right of me to expect you to just forgive me easily Harry. I shouldn't have thought that you would see things my way just because I was trying to protect you from danger." She took in a shuddery breathe. "I wish I could make things right Harry. I wish I could go back and change the past but I know that I can't wipe away the scars that had befallen on you. I know now I can't expect your forgiveness."

Harry listened silently. He didn't know what she expected him to say after that. If anything, he didn't feel compelled to apologize for his behavior toward him. Lily, sensing that, reached inside her cloak and pulled out her wand and an indescribable bundle. Harry's eyes widened as she murmured something under her breath, put the bundle on the floor, and gave the wand a flick of the wrist. The object all but tripled in size, turning into a large pile of unwrapped presents and letters and cards and books stacked neatly together. Harry raised his eyes back to Lily.

"Is this-?" he asked.

Lily nodded. "All the things we've sent all over the years. They kept it all up in the attic for all these years. I thought it was only right that you finally get to open them." There was another pause. "I hope that one day you can forgive me for never being there for you Harry."

Harry lowered his eyes. "I don't think I can ever forgive you completely Lily," he said. "Forgiving is one thing. Forgetting is another. You abandoned me, and for that I can neither forgive nor forget, but I know you're sincere as is."

"Well I just—thank you Harry," Lily, said. She looked down at the sleeping Henry and smiled. "He's really fond of you."

Harry nodded slowly.

"It's good. Henry's always been such a lonely boy. Even with all his fame, he never had anyone he kept close." She smiled up at Harry. "He really loves you Harry. I hope you can learn to love him in return too."

"Yeah, sure," Harry mumbled glancing down at the sleeping boys face. He wouldn't have guessed that the beautiful prince who shared his blood was also a lonely prince. He wouldn't have guessed they felt the very same way.


End file.
